


Teachable Moments

by VioletHaze



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 12x12, First Time, M/M, Or does he, Snarky Castiel, coda fic, dean teaches cas about sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 08:52:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10082273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VioletHaze/pseuds/VioletHaze
Summary: Honestly, Castiel has had it with humans who have decided the term "infinite knowledge" means "let me explain everything to you like you're a child even though my lifetime of experience is merely an early-swatted fruit fly compared to your long existence and also I am going to eat the rest of your French fries."





	

Dean seems on edge the whole way back from the diner. Maybe it’s just the upcoming hunt, but Cas noticed the tight set to his mouth even before Mary got them refocused as they sat around the table. Cas watches from the backseat, sees him working his jaw as he drives them the short distance to the motel. Once he parks, Dean mutters something to Sam about “working strategy” with Cas. Noting the way Sam rolls his eyes, Cas warily lets Dean follow along to his room.

“I thought we had the plan in place,” Cas says, even though he has a pretty good idea what this is really about.

Dean dismisses that with a wave of his hand. “Yeah, the case'll be fine. Then afterwards you can go back and take that waitress out.”

Honestly, Castiel has had it with humans who have decided the term "infinite knowledge" means "let me explain everything to you like you're a child even though my lifetime of experience is merely an early-swatted fruit fly compared to your long existence and also I am going to eat the rest of your French fries."

He wants to make Dean happy, of course, but he’s not in the mood to go through this charade right now. No amount of broad shoulders and green eyes and shining soul are going to make up for the numerous insults to which Castiel had been subjected to during the course of one meal today.

If Dean wants someone to have sexual relations with Mandy he can damn well do it himself. Or not, Castiel thinks with wry satisfaction, since she'd shown him no notice. 

He opens his mouth to say just that because he’s tired and those little broken bits of overdone fries are his favorite and he was saving them till the end on purpose.

Before he can, Dean continues to state his case. “I’m telling you, she’s super into you.”  He lifts his eyebrows and nods at Cas like he’s a child who needs to be cajoled into brushing his teeth before bed.

Cas doesn’t need his grace to be able to read Dean’s mind. He’s the walking, talking definition of _reaction formation_ and Cas makes a mental note to pick up a book on psychoanalytic theory to leave on the front seat of the Impala. Perhaps with a post-it note containing the word YOU in large letters affixed to the appropriate chapter. The more time and energy he invests in trying to push Castiel at strange women, the more transparently obvious his true desires become.

Rubbing a weary hand over his face, he begins, “I don’t think—“

But Dean interrupts him, holding his hands up in front of him like this is his best and final offer. “I’ll teach you a coupla my signature moves and the whole thing will be a done deal.”

Cas hesitates, the words to refuse poised to come out, only… “You’re going to teach me what to do with Mandy.”

Dean’s already taking off his jacket. “If there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s get a waitress eating out of the palm of your hand.”

Cas stares at him, his mind whirring. He doesn’t wish to trick Dean or mislead him, but time and patience have gotten him exactly nowhere over the years and technically, this is fully Dean’s idea. He hesitates, toying with the idea before committing to it. Deciding to play along, he peers down at his own palm in confusion.

“Figure of speech,” Dean says, confident that he is here to teach Cas everything from idioms to the art of seduction. He takes a seat on the bed, then pats a spot on the mattress next to him. “Ok, sit down right here. Wait.”  Cas stops, nearly stunned at how easy Dean is making this, and Dean looks at him appraisingly. “Loosen up a little. Lose the jacket.”

Cas works on looking put-upon. “Is this really necessary?”

“Look, Cas, opportunities like this don’t turn up every day and you need to seize them when they do. She’s sending out more signals than a traffic light. I mean, for God’s sake, she called you devastatingly handsome.”

“No, she didn’t,” Cas responds as he slips off his trench coat and suit jacket.

“Yes, she did,” Dean insists.

“She called me handsome. _You_ added the ‘devastatingly’.”

Dean blinks for a moment, his lips softly parted. “Well, that’s what she meant,” he finally concludes.

Removing his tie, Cas pretends not to notice the slight blush that heats Dean’s cheeks and instead holds out his arms for approval. “Alright?”

Dean looks him up and down—and there it is, that unconscious lick of his lips— before pronouncing him good. “Have a seat.”

Cas sits, leaving room between them.

“Ok, you know all those talks we’ve had about personal space?” Cas nods. “This is when we throw them out the window. You want to be close,” Dean says, sliding over on the bed, “but not creepy-close.”

Cas squints a little to show what a perfectly diligent student he is. “How am I supposed to tell the difference?”

“Excellent question. Ok, so this?” Dean leans into Cas’s side, his face mere inches from Cas’s. Cas can see the flecks of gold in his green eyes. “Creepy close.” He leans back and arranges himself so that their knees and shoulders can easily brush. “Aim for something more like this because from here, I can easily do this.” He rests a hand on Cas’s bicep. “And build my way up to, say, this.” He drops it to Cas’s knee.

Cas nods. “Small touches are used to demonstrate physical interest.”

“Yeah, but she’s already into you so she’ll be receptive. The way she looked at you…” Dean smirks at him and squeezes his knee. “It’s practically a done deal.”

“She looked at everyone,” Cas points out. “As a waitress, that was part of her job.”

“Ok but there’s looking and there’s _looking_ , you know?” Cas decides his best bet is to look blankly at him and wait for further elaboration, which Dean does after rubbing the back of his neck as he thinks. Cas helpfully doesn’t point out that he could have used the hand resting on Cas’s knee, but no, that one remains firmly in place.  “Like I could look at you the regular way.” Dean arranges his features neutrally, the way he would when approaching a potential witness. “Hello, how are you?” he asks Cas in a stilted tone that has Cas holding back a smile. “ _Or_ , I could be like,” Dean leans forward and stares into Cas’s eyes, letting his gaze slowly drift down to his mouth and then back up again. “Got it?”

Cas tips his head a little as he takes it all in. “Look at her eyes, then at her lips, and then her eyes again,” he confirms.

“What? Just her eyes, I mean. I didn’t…never mind, let’s move on.” Belatedly, he realizes his hand is still on Cas’s knee and pulls it way. “So, you’ll talk to her about…about whatever she wants to talk about. Just smile and nod a lot, chicks love that, and try to touch her a few times, maybe push her hair back or something too.”

“Perhaps I should be writing this down.” Cas turns to get a pen out of his jacket pocket but Dean stops him with a hand to his shoulder. It’s such a familiar touch that it jars Cas a little and he wonders if everything will stay safely in place despite his new tactic.

“Nah, you don’t need that. Just build on those little touches, see? A hand on the shoulder turns into this.” He stretches his arm around Cas’s shoulders and pulls him in.

They’re close enough that Cas can feel Dean’s breath on his cheek. He could count each freckle, every curling eyelash. There’s a long moment when time stands still and Cas tries to barely even breathe, afraid of spooking Dean. They’ve teetered on this edge before, time and again. Without even realizing he’s doing it, Cas reaches out and puts a hand on Dean’s hip.

Dean kisses him.

His lips are soft and gentle on Cas’s. It’s hesitant but it’s a kiss, a real one. Fully aware that at any second Dean could pull back, stuff his hands in his pockets, and head for the door, Cas leans in when Dean starts to end it, and he feels something in Dean relax.

“I think I’m starting to understand,” Cas says seriously when they finally pull apart.

“Uh,” Dean starts, then clears his throat. “Ok, good." There's a long moment of silence before Dean continues. "From there you can figure out what else she likes by kissing her different places and listening.” He swallows hard and leans in again but this time he kisses Cas on the cheek. Before Cas can resign himself to this less intimate touch, Dean kisses his way down to Cas’s jaw and trails his tongue along it.

Cas is definitely one hundred percent fully in control here only he can’t quite remember when he grabbed two handfuls of Dean’s soft t-shirt. “What am I supposed to be listening for _oh_.” He gasps slightly as Dean licks just behind his earlobe and he can feel Dean smiling against his skin.

“Now you’re getting it.”

Cas flattens one of his hands against Dean’s chest and pushes at him a little. Dean immediately sits back and Cas can see the fear that he’s gone too far in his eyes.  When his lips part with words of apology, Cas cuts him off. “Can I try that?”

Dean rapidly nods two, three times. “I mean. You probably should. They say practice makes perf—“ He moans softly as Cas dives in at the collar of his t-shirt, kissing and sucking his way to the pulse point in his neck. Cas kisses his way up, hot and wet, along the underside of his chin. He grazes his lips against Dean’s before sitting back and adopting his most owlish expression.

“How’d I do?”

“A+ work, buddy,” Dean breathes.

He’s beautiful like this, eyes wide and face flushed, each freckle in grand display. Cas wants to tackle him, pin him down on the bed, and kiss him senseless, but instead he squints a little and frowns, like he’s incorporating all this new information.  “What next?”

“Huh?” Dean’s back to staring at Cas’s mouth.

Cas lets go of Dean’s shirt with one hand to tick off the list on his fingers. “Touching, kissing, shall we call it _nuzzling_?” He waits for Dean to confirm but Dean continues to look a little lost. “What comes next?”

Dean draws in a deep, steadying breath. “Oh. Um. I guess—“

“And what precisely constitutes ‘petting'?”

Cas nearly snorts when Dean lets out an actual whimper. Biting his tongue, he focuses on staring at him expectantly. As he watches, Dean takes in a long, slow breath and Cas can almost hear the internal monologue as he works to refocus and regain control. Cas waits, watching blandly until Dean runs a hand through his hair, lifting it into spikes.

“Ok,” Dean says with renewed confidence as he squares his shoulders. “Let’s continue.” He puts his arm around Cas’s shoulders again. “So, once you’re here, you can start to make a move to uh the chest area.” With that helpful explanation, he slides his hand down from Cas’s shoulder and onto his pectoral. “See where I’m going with this?” He’s even recovered enough to find his smirk.

Cas thinks for a moment. “Second base!” he says brightly.

“Bingo,” Dean confirms. “Slide right on in to second base.” He lets his fingertips graze over the warm skin at the open neck of Cas's shirt. “Buttons can be tricky but with a little practice you can do them one-handed.” To demonstrate, he pops the first button and lets his hand dip a little further inside. Cas makes sure to give him an admiring look which leaves Dean preening.

“It’s a shame you aren’t wearing any for me to try,” Cas says forlornly, looking at Dean’s chest. “I guess I could just…” He reaches over and runs two fingertips over the nipple that he can just make out underneath the soft fabric. Dean hisses like he’s been shocked and Cas feels the nub come to life under his touch. Cas rubs circles over it, validated when the other one become visibly hardened as well even though he hasn’t touched it. The tips of Dean’s ears are pink and he’s taken to breathing with his mouth open. When Cas finally starts to move his hand to the other side, he pretends he doesn’t notice Dean pressing a palm to adjust himself in his jeans.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, as you are, of course, the expert here, but I assume it’s less preferable to perform each of these actions independently?” Cas knows he could have simply said _one at a time_ but watching Dean’s brow crease and his mouth form a tiny o as he’s trying to make sense of Cas’s words is worth it. Cas pinches Dean’s nipple through his shirt and Dean’s eyes fall closed.

“I’m not sure what you’re…getting at,” he manages.

“I mean, isn’t it more pleasurable for my partner if I combine what I’ve learned?” He leans in to kiss Dean’s collarbone all the while slowly and relentlessly teasing his nipple.

Dean makes a humming sound of approval and Cas figures he’s on the right track. “Yeah, that’s it,” he breathes and whether it’s an answer to his question or simply encouragement, Cas doesn’t know. He continues for a few more seconds and then pulls back, dropping his hand at the same time.

Dean’s eyes fly open and he looks blissfully dazed. Cas feels his own skin tingle with heat and it takes every ounce of concentration not to let his breath shudder when he inhales. Dean can still get out of this with plausible deniability, and Cas needs to take it to the next level. 

Amping up his look of confusion, Cas gestures broadly to his crotch. “Dean, I seem to be having a…situation here.”

Dean swallows audibly. “Yeah, that’s normal. Sometimes—” 

Under the guise of checking just how normal it is, Cas places his open palm on the obvious bulge in Dean’s jeans. If this were an old sit-com, the sound of a record needle scratching would accompany his comically wide eyes and gaping mouth, the words he was about to say having short-circuited somewhere between his brain and his tongue.

Cas decides it’s time to play his hand, so to speak. He quickly and skillfully undoes Dean’s belt and opens his fly with one hand. In shock, Dean scrambles to his feet. Cas smiles at him knowingly, all traces of awkward fumbling gone.

“You fucker,” Dean says, breathing hard. He looks more stunned and impressed than mad.

Cas hooks a finger into a belt loop and tugs him forward. “Dean,” he says, looking up at him with one eyebrow raised.

“Yeah?” It comes out a little shaky, but Dean isn’t trying to back away. If anything, he moves closer.

Cas calmly slips his hand into Dean’s underwear to wrap around his erection. “I’m going to suck you off now and _you_ ,” He strokes up and down slowly, “do you know what _you_ are going to do?”

Mute, Dean shakes his head. His eyes flit from Cas’s face to the sight of his cock gliding in and out of the circle of his fist.

“You’re going to stop eating my fries without permission.”


End file.
